At only four years old, Yeou-Cheng Ma exhibited a clear talent for the violin.

Under the tutelage of her father, a Ph.D. student at the Paris Conservatory of Music, Yeou-Cheng began to play the instrument at two-and-a-half years old. Only a year later, she entered in her first competition against students ranging from fourteen to nineteen years old. She won.

Her violin teacher praised Yeou-Cheng’s ability to her mother, a vocal student who later sang opera. She said, “Your daughter is a brilliant musician. There’s no doubt in my mind that she inherits this talent from you and your husband…It’s in her genes.”

Finally, the teacher added: “Mrs. Ma, what I’m trying to tell you is that I think it is a great pity that you don’t plan on having another child.”

At the time, the three of them lived in a tiny apartment in Paris. They struggled to earn a living and had barely enough for themselves. Yet, four years after the birth of their daughter, a son was born in 1955. He was named Yo-Yo Ma.

“Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists.. it is real.. it is possible.. it’s yours.” – Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged

In the beginning, there is always a spark. All endeavors start off fresh, exciting, and full of possibilities. Unfortunately, sparks vanish just as quickly as they are ignited.

Rejection discourages attempts at anything new. Criticism keeps us from stepping out of convention. Inner fears kill any creativity we might have had.

The good news is that, with care and focus, we can learn to create again. By practicing and developing our sense of spirit, we can step outside the bounds set by both ourselves and others. By incorporating various practices, we can rediscover concepts and ideas.

Few philosophers have made so great an impact on French philosophy as Voltaire. Born in 1694, Francois-Marie Arouet spent his early years in Paris, France. He was educated in the classics by Jesuits at the College Louis-le-Grand.

After finishing school, he wanted to become a writer. His father, though, wanted him to follow in his footsteps and become a lawyer. To appease him, Arouet pretended to pursue law while he wrote.

Arouet became popular amongst his peers for his satire and wit. Unfortunately, these same attributes soon landed him in hot water. After mocking the government, he was imprisoned in the Bastille for nearly a year. When he was released, he decided to adopt the name “Voltaire”.

Quitting has a negative association. We describe it as giving up, being non-committal, or lacking perseverance. When someone quits, it’s easy to assume that the person simply didn’t give it their all.

To be sure, quitting prematurely happens too often. Whenever you try something, you’re going to have difficulties. You’re going to face obstacles. You’re going to battle doubts swimming in your head. Quitting may not be the best choice.

But other times, it doesn’t make sense to keep going. What if you attempt something, but never see any progress? What if you continue down a route, but just don’t feel passionate about where you’re headed?

In the beginning, we’re excited, eager, and energetic. We have dreams we want to pursue. A desire to make something of ourselves, coupled with an earnest intention to overcome any obstacles that come our way.

Somewhere along the way though, we hit a wall. We stop learning. We look around and see other people are content with where they are. So we sit and rest for a while in a safe haven, until we feel motivated enough to start working on our goals again. We wait.

That is, until awhile turns into months, then years. One day, you look back and realize that you’ve been stuck in the same spot for the past decade. What would your younger self think?

I recently read an interesting account of the rise and fall of ancient Egypt, which reminded me of the human tendency to fall into the same patterns.

At only 19 years old, S.E. Hinton’s first novel The Outsiders was an instant success.

She began writing the story in high school. Her story was based off two rival gangs at school: the Greasers and the Socs. Hinton’s book sought to understand “the other side” by portraying life from the Greasers’ working-class perspective.

Her novel was published in 1967. At the time, she was a freshman attending university in her hometown, Tulsa, Oklahoma. Before she left her teenage years, Hinton became a household name.

Since then, the book has sold tens of millions of copies. It has become required reading in many high schools. Of all the novels that Hinton has written, The Outsiders remains the most popular.

“Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.” — Confucius

Overload has become the norm.

Every single day, we’re barraged with copious amounts of information. We’re told how we should spend our time, what we should eat, and where we should go. While we search endlessly for the answer, we usually end up where we began: in a bottomless well.

When you add in factors such as the rise of automated technology, increasing choices, and the pressure to keep up, is it any wonder that we feel swallowed up in everything?

Painters in a Parisian Café

It was 1860s Paris. The city was taking the art world by storm. In a café, five artists met to talk.

The young painters – Claude Monet, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Alfred Sisley, and Frédéric Bazille – convened at the Café Guerbois. As usual, they discussed art, life, and philosophy under the guidance of the older Édouard Manet.

Right now though, they needed to talk business. Specifically, the business of getting into the Salon.